The entire time he was headed to the palace, Setzer had been trying to think of what he was going to say to Hilda. Striding down the marble hallways and acknowledged by more than a few nameless soldiers on the way, he refined his explanation of the misunderstandings that had brought them to this. The only sticking point was getting an audience with the Queen. Would she even see him?
He headed for the floor that contained the royal suites, but made no dash for Hilda’s room. Instead he followed the familiar path to the apartment she had given him. His quick fingers drew the right key from his pocket by feel alone. What he saw when he opened the door made him stop short.
There was Hilda, standing behind his desk and looking intently at him. She had been studying a piece of paper that was still gripped tight in her hand - one of his designs, though he couldn’t tell if it was a final draft or not. Slowly, he closed the door behind him and approached her.
All thoughts of his carefully rehearsed speech went out the window.
“Hilda… Please, let me explain.”
Setzer had wanted to keep his designs a secret-- something like a surprise for her. Whenever she stole a glimpse of one of his sketches, she was always struck by how artful his designs were, and how lovingly he must have crafted them. The sketch she held was no different. She wasn’t sure how long she had been studying it, but by now every penstroke was etched into her mind, and the form of the fanciful ship had become lost in the haze of hatches and notes.
Nobody would find her here, she was sure. In her own chambers, there could always be some pressing matter, some last-minute detail that required her to see or be seen by someone. But to Setzer alone she had gifted this little retreat, where he could work, or rest, undisturbed and away from prying eyes. She had meant for this apartment to be his home, an oasis or reprieve where he might always feel welcome, secure. Ultimately, something his. ...Well. Apparently, he hadn’t needed it.
It could be a place for her to hide then, at least until she decided what else should be done with it. Only she and Setzer himself had the key, after all; she would be safely alone with herself.
So she thought, until she heard the lock click back.
There was only one person it could be. Before her now, he seemed so urgent. And before him, she must have looked so... tired.
Had Hilda felt more herself, she would have composed herself, stretched to her tall, regal bearing in the time it took Setzer to withdraw the key and pull back the door. But... she could not bring herself to do it. Perhaps they were simply past all that pomp. She lowered her hand, smoothly laying the drawing back on his desk.
“... I did not expect you.” She slid the drawing away from her, as if she could hide that she’d been pouring over it. “Have you forgotten something? Do not allow me to obstruct your search.” She nodded to acknowledge him, and made for the door.
